My New Daddy
by Steve the Icecube
Summary: Tony is seven years old when Howard finds Steve trapped in the ice. Tony doesn't think he'll like Steve, and tries to ignore him at first, pretending to be shy. But then something happens and Tony and Steve are forced to be together a lot. *Features a very socially awkward Tony but no pairings*
1. Chapter 1

When I was a young kid, the only thing I'd ever look forward to when it came to my father were his stories about Captain America.

I'd always, always admired him. To be honest, at times I was a little jealous of Steve. He got the admiration of my father, and that was the one thing that I really wanted. I just wanted my dad, but Steve got to him first. It just _wasn't fair, _not in my opinion anyway. I was his son, not stupid dead Steve Rogers, the amazing war hero who helped take out a massive threat.

I knew that without Steve, I wouldn't be alive because if New York had been bombed then my dad would be dead and so would a lot of America and we would have lost the war. But I also knew that it wasn't like Steve was _smart, _he wasn't a genius like I was and he'd have had no clue what Thermonuclear Astrophysics were, well, not that I did, but still, I could study it and work it out if IO really wanted to, but Steve would never be as amazing as I was when it came to brains so I didn't really see what the complication was at all.

But now I'm seven and I'm a big, brave boy now. I know that if I ever want Dad's attention, I'll have to earn it by doing everything Captain America couldn't, and some things he could. That's what Jarvis said I should do, well, not exactly, but he implied it. Dad always says to read between the lines when it comes to what people say to you, because if you don't read between the lines then you won't get anywhere near the full picture of what the person means. I'm not very good at that, that's why I'm going to improve it. Dad said that Steve had loads of friends and even though he was rubbish with women, and he was really nice to people and he had a sense of honour and once he curled his body around a grenade to save a bunch of other people before he became strong.

I don't think I'll ever be as strong as Steve. Or as perfect. It just isn't possible because I'm just a person. An insanely clever seven year old who's really famous and can make engines and stuff. I'm really clever, probably more clever than my dad when I'm older, but at the moment I'm just a silly, cute little boy who's the son of a weapons manufacturer. I don't like that part of my dad being him, because although he has loads of money and cool things, sometimes bad people come and take me away and I hate that because then my dad has to pay money to get me away from them. They do bad things to me and hurt me and I hate that, but I try to be strong about it because that never happened to Captain America. My dad always says he's really proud of me whenever I come back from being in captivity or whatever the technical term is. I don't know if he's telling the truth or not, but I know that my smile whenever he says things like that is always genuine.

* * *

Dad's gone to Antarctica. He says they've found something in the ice. I'm not sure if I want it to be Steve or not. If it is, then I'll be happy and stuff because Dad will stop looking for him, but if it is him, he'll be around a lot, I think, and then he'll meet me and see how not-perfect I am. Well, if he's still alive, anyway. And then he won't like me because he'll listen to what Dad says, because everyone listens to what he says and Dad often says that I'm useless and should be more like Steve.

I tell Jarvis about these things and he says that he's sure that Steve is a very good person, and that I'm not a bad boy, I'm just a Stark.

I don't know what that means but I think it was a nice thing for him to say.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: WOAH. I tell you, I have never had that kind of feedback for the first crappy 748 words of a fanfic before. Was it, like 15 follows or something? So, you get a new chapter really soon!**

It turned out that it was Captain America under all that ice. And what more, he was actually still alive.

Dad said that Steve would wake up within a week now that he was defrosted, and after that he'd get to go and see Peggy and they'd all reunite and tell Steve about the years he had lost. Then, Dad planned to invite him to live with them, as Steve would have 30 years to catch up on and he was the best man for the job, being a futurist.

I was getting more and more nervous about Captain Rogers with every passing hour. Dad was calling Mum a few times a day to say about the progress, and she was spending more time on the phone to someone on the other side of New York than she was talking in person to her son who was always in the house because he had nothing better to do.

Dad's been on TV twice for interviews and such. About Steve, saying that he was like part of the family, and he was really looking forward to seeing his old friend again and introducing his son to a real life superhero. After this, people wanted an interview with me too, and that would be later today, when he went to go and see Steve with Mum and of course, Dad.

But now, I was lying awake at 5AM. I'd woken up from a nightmare that I think had a lot of green, red and gold in it, but I don't remember anything else. My lamp was on, because I didn't want to be in the darkness. The lamp cast a soft light through my room.

Everything was quiet, but that didn't mean that no one was up. Jarvis is always silent when he moves around at night, out of politeness, I think. And Mum isn't ever really loud, it's only Dad, and that's when he's drunk. I decided finally that I wasn't doing anything lying in bed, I wasn't going to fall asleep again tonight, so I decided to go to the kitchen to get a morning snack. I pulled my dressing gown on and got out of bed. _Nah, my dressing gown's boring. _I thought, and took it off again.

My feet sank into the as I walked along the landing towards the stairs. Feeling rebellious, I ran down the stairs as I could without falling.

Entering the dark kitchen, I was a little scared when I found that the tap was still dripping slightly, like in some bad horror movie, so I ignored it and turned the tap off. It was kinda hard to reach, I hate being short. I got a chocolate bar out of the cupboard by standing on a chair. I put the chair back, but I'm sure that Jarvis will know that I've taken the chocolate bar.

I ran back to the staircase, and I paused. Everyone but me was presumably asleep, and Dad was on the other side of New York. I could go into his lab! He's always made it clear that the lab was off-limits, saying that it was too dangerous, but I like danger so I go into the lab anyway.

I flicked the light on. It was surprisingly clean, sterile tables with a few leather-bound notebooks on them. I picked one of the books up and read the title. It read 'Anthony Edward Stark'.

I dropped the book on the floor like it had burned me and it made a soft noise as it hit the steel floor. I ran out of the room as quickly as I could, not bothering to turn the light off. I only stopped running when I reached my room.

The chocolate bar was nice, though.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I apologise for the delay :) I lost the book which had the completed draft in it, but I found it yesterday, so here is the next chapter!**

**I have very vague ideas on where this is going, so if you want anything specific, then ask and it may show up.**

I felt like I had ants in my pants, or the simile or metaphor or whatever it is equivalent; in short, I couldn't sit still. I was in the car, fidgeting around in my seat, annoying Mum and Jarvis and the driver who I couldn't remember the name of.

I was really nervous about meeting Captain America, but I reasoned with myself that he wasn't even awake yet. I was also excited, I always like the interviews I do with my dad because he always says nice things about me, even if he doesn't mean it.

"Tony, just sit still." Mum insisted, sounding a little flustered.

"But my mind's going at at least twice the speed of yours, I can't stay still when I have nothing to do!" I protested, being snarkier than I really should be, but she'd annoyed me.

"Tony, don't speak to me like that."

"Do I sound too mature when I use scientific reasoning?" _And big words. _I added silently. "Besides, you could've spoken to me for ages over the last couple of weeks, because you've always been at home, waiting for Dad to call. I was there all the time."

"Tony, I am not going to have this argument with you. Be a good boy for me and your daddy."

"I'm trying Mum, I really am." I said. However, it appeared I was the only person to catch the double meaning in the words. Was I the only person in the car who had the vocabulary to know that trying also meant annoying?

I pointedly made an effort to fiddle and fidget as much as I could for the next hour, and was relieved when the car finally pulled into the parking lot of the hospital Steve was in. The moment we stepped out of the car, we were greeted by camera flashes and questions from reporters. I rubbed my nose in fake shyness and instantly had reporters cooing over how cute I was. Works every time.

Then, suddenly, for no reason, I felt cramped and trapped and I just wanted to scream at all of them. I felt frozen in place, because I knew I couldn't. Jarvis saw my discomfort and took my hand, leading me through the reporters and over to the hospital entrance. I love him sometimes.

I felt much better once I was inside, away from all those people. Not a minute later, Mum and another reporter come in, the only one who'll be allowed in to interview me and Dad.

When we reached Captain Rogers' room, I was shocked at what I saw. The room was just...old fashioned. There was a radio, playing old music, and the bed, seats and a small table were all just in a really old style.

Mum trotted up to Dad on her high heels and gave him a kiss. He smiled at her brightly, and then came up to me and pulled me into a hug. I tensed for a second, not realising what he was doing, but then I realised it was because the reporter was there.

"Tony, this is Steve." Dad said, gesturing to the sleeping form on the bed. Steve Rogers. He was really tall, his skin quite pale, thick eyelashes dark against his skin, and his hair was blonde. He was very classically handsome, and I couldn't help feeling like a little fanboy inside, because he looked just like in the comics. "As you can see, he's still asleep at the moment, but he'll wake up soon, and then you'll get to meet him." Dad's words were soft, loving, and I really wanted to believe that he had changed, that now he'd found Steve he'd be an amazing father, the one I always dream of him being, but I know that Dad is cruel and he won't change that quickly.

"Hello, Mr Stark, I am Ronald Davis of the New York Times. You permitted me to interview you and Anthony here together."

"Call me Tony please!" I piped up in the reedy voice that is reserved for strangers that aren't kidnapping me.

"Okay, Tony," Ronald's voice was warm, "we'll do a question for you first. Are you looking forward to meeting Captain America?"

"Well, I'm a bit nervous. But I'm very excited, too, Daddy's told me a lot about Captain America!" Disguised truths work well, because only clever people read between the lines.

"So, Mr Stark, what have you told Tony about Captain America?"

"Old stories that he won't have seen in comics. It's the only time he's ever quiet and sits still to listen to anyone."

The reporter scribbled down the response on his notepad before turning back to me. "So, Tony, do you have any Captain America merchandise? That's like comics-"

"I know what merchandise means, I'm very clever. I have posters and most of the comics and I've seen most of the movies. I have action figures and a duvet set, too." This was a complete truth, and the reporter seemed satisfied at the answer but annoyed at the interruption.

"So, Mr Stark, this brings us on to the topic of Tony's brains. Everyone knows he's very smart, but do you know how smart?"

"I'll dare to say that he's smarter than I was when I was his age. It's been a lot faster with his learning since he learned to read four years ago. He's so smart he comes out with all these words me and Maria have no idea where he found. He mentioned discrimination of genetically and mentally enhanced humans the other day."

"That's certainly very interesting. Tony, where did you find these words?"

I looked over at his notepad, which was covered in words and other parts in a different slant that weren't in the conversation. "You spelt discrimination wrong. It doesn't have any 'e's in it. And I found them in the dictionary." That wasn't true. I'd found them on Dad's computer, a paper that he'd written so when he made a statement on the subject he'd look like an expert. Dad had smacked me when I'd said it. He thought I'd been in his lab when actually I'd been in his study, which I wasn't _actually _allowed in but he'd never said so.

"Well, Mr Davis, it was a very nice interview, but I think you should be going now." Dad said coolly, with a hint of friendliness in his tone that made Ronald smile hesitantly. He left not a minute later.

Dad's smile faded when he left the room. He patted me on the back. "Good show, Tony."

I felt a glimmer of pride rise in my chest at his words, and I smiled. He thought I did really well! I think I like acting now. And Dad likes it when I act well, too.

We sat in silence for a while, not really doing anything. I didn't do any fidgeting now, because Dad would be mad and I didn't want to ruin his good mood.

And then Captain America stirred and slowly, very slowly, opened his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I warn you now, this was hard to write and I think it's a bunch of crap.**

Steve looked around, confused. I felt my mouth drop open. This was Captain America. Whether I liked him or not he was a real superhero!

Steve's eyes focused on Dad. "Howard?" He asked uncertainly, and Dad nodded, too shocked to speak. "Where am I? Why are you older?"

Dad smiled sadly at his old friend, and I shifted away from the bed awkwardly. I felt so out of place...

"I-I need to use the restroom." I squeaked, sounding like some kind of idiot, blushing furiously as I left the room.

I did, in fact, go to the restroom. But I didn't use the toilet like most people would, instead I stood, with my forehead against the cold porcelain of the sink. To make matters worse, it was the little kiddie sink, because I'm so annoyingly short. It made me feel so puny and unworthy to meet Steve Rogers. I was just a shorter than average kid who would possibly (more like definitely) be smarter than his father by the age of twelve, and said father hated him, who just isn't _perfect enough _to meet Captain America, the Star Spangled Man With A Plan, my childhood (or younger than now hood) hero.

It made me feel like dirt, like my dad and Captain Rogers had used their old army boots to stamp me into the dust of the dirt tracks in all those movies.

Finally, I managed to calm myself down enough to gather up the courage to go back into Steve's room.

When I stepped in, I almost fled again at the sight that met my eyes. Steve was looking at Dad with a horrified expression on his face, looking close to crying.

However, Steve still managed to notice me. "So, Howard, who's this?"

"I'm his slave." I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm I hoped that Steve wouldn't miss. Dad actually _smiled _and ruffled my hair.

"Don't be shy, Tony. Introduce yourself properly." I could sense a little bit of coldness in his fond tone that really and truly scared me.

"Well, most often when I introduce myself, I say 'Hello, I'm Anthony Edward Stark, but please call me Tony.' But then people just call me Anthony, so just call me Tony. Please." I added, as an afterthought.

Steve smiled warmly at me. "You're Howard's son then, aren't you?"

"...Yes. I am."

"And how old are you Tony? Five? Six?"

I scowled at him, insulted. I wasn't that short! "I'm seven. And forty-nine days." Not that I'd been counting or anything.

Steve smiled yet again. He seemed so cheerful. But maybe it was all an act, like Dad's, and he'd just be nasty later. "Are you clever like Howard?"

I was shocked by the genuine curiosity in his voice. "I-y-yeah. Yeah, I'm clever."

"Tony, don't boast." Dad said sternly.

"I'm sure Tony is very clever, Howard. He is your son, after all. I'd say he looks quite a bit like you, too." Steve said warmly.

"It's great that you're awake, Steve." Dad said, clearly changing the subject away from me and him. "I'll start arranging a flight, you should be able to go and see Peggy-"

Steve cut him off. "No. I...I don't want to see Peggy again. I let her down. It won't be the same."

"Steve, Peggy loved you. She knows that you've been found."

"But she's older now. I can't take seeing the proof that I made her wait so long."

Howard sighed. "Okay, Steve, but if she comes to see you then you have to meet up with her."

Steve nodded gratefully, then shifted awkwardly. "So, uh, when can I get out of here?"

"Well, if you want to leave without being hassled by the press, which I'll take as a given, then we'll need to leave in a couple of hours when they're gone. They stay for a while in case any of us leave in a hurry, so they can paint a scandalous picture." Howard explained, and Steve relaxed slightly.

"And, uh, could I have some food?"


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Take two! The first time I typed this up, my internet glitched and I lost the whole chapter. :( It must have been over 700 words long.**

**The mobile phone was invented my this time, I promise. I checked. This chapter was inspired by the reviewer paigemeable. So, if you want to suggest a scene (other than a fight between Steve and Howard), go ahead!**

Jarvis went to go and fetch us food from the canteen. Dad refused the food, as did Mum, saying that they could eat back at home and they'd survive without the rubbish.

Steve did, admittedly, look suspiciously at the pizza that must be different from when it was back before he got frozen. I thought it looked like okay pizza. It was spicy beef, after all.

But then, in the middle of the meal, Jarvis had to call the maids back at the mansion to arrange a room for Captain Rogers, Mum had to go and fix her makeup or something, and Dad got a 'very important business call' and had to leave to take it. I looked after him coldly, half hoping that Steve wouldn't notice, the other half desperately hoping that he would.

We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, continuing with eating our pizza, until Steve broke the silence, "so, Tony, what do you like doing?"

I was taken aback by the question. No one ever really asked me what I liked doing. With Jarvis, well, he already knew what I liked, and reporters never really wanted to know about anything but my intelligence, and Mum and Dad, well, I don't think I really have long enough conversations with them to have them ask that, "I like reading." I said quietly.

Steve smiled, "what kind of books do you like reading?"

"Maths and science textbooks." I admitted shyly, "we don't have many fiction books, Dad only likes believable things."

"I couldn't read very well when I was seven." Steve said warmly, "It was back in the Depression, and I was so sick most of the time that I couldn't go to school. Between money and our home and my medicines and doctors, we didn't have the money for books. But my mother would insist that I read a page to her every night, and she'd read a few to me."

I was confused. Wouldn't being read to out loud be more complicated? You wouldn't know who was speaking, if there was speech, and I like knowing how to spell all the science and maths words, and when it comes to cubic units and a number cubed, wouldn't it get really difficult? And you can't explain diagrams. "Wasn't that confusing, though, being read to?"

Steve frowned. "Don't Maria and Howard read to you?"

"They don't have time, and besides, Mummy doesn't like reading non-fiction anyway. I've been reading by myself for three and a half years, I really don't mind anymore." And then I realised what I'd said. No, please, Dad can't find out I said that! "Please, don't tell Daddy I said that..." I mumbled, looking down at my pizza and holding a piece in my hand, ready to put in in my mouth should Steve say anything that warranted a reply.

Unfortunately, I'd forgotten that Steve had amazing hearing, "okay, Tony, I won't tell. Our secret, okay?"

I froze. What was I meant to say? No one ever offered to keep a secret for me before. "I-yeah, thanks." I felt a prickling in my eyes and I swiped at them furiously before Steve could see.

Because I'd hate it if Captain America had seen me cry just because of a promise and a few kind words.


	6. Chapter 6

We left quite late that night, a single reporter from some gossip magazine wouldn't leave until the security guards came and told him to leave and that his space in the car pack could be needed at any second if there was a car accident and multiple people had to be brought in.

Steve hadn't clued up to much, like how I'd cried for over five minutes in the toilets the moment I could get away, but then again, he seemed pretty distracted by everything that was going on, and I couldn't blame him. I'd seen pictures that my dad had showed me of him and Steve back in the days before Steve crashed into the ice, and everything was very different to how it is now.

He was amazed by all the electricity, and went pale when he heard about what happened at the end of the war. He seemed very happy that Dad was still making weapons for the army, even though I thought he was more of a peace-loving person. Maybe he's more of a soldier who does all the fighting than I thought, and than the comics make out. Though I guess that if the newspapers don't get it right about Dad then the comics don't always get it right about heroes like Captain America.

He seemed upset by the loss of life in Japan, though. I can understand that. I know quite a lot about it, it's one of the first things my dad taught me when he decided to teach me what my opinions should be on world issues. I thought that it wasn't necessary for all those bombs to be dropped, too, but my dad, well, he convinced me to _say _otherwise, even if I didn't mean it. My chest tightened at Steve's expression, I was sure that Dad was going to lose his temper.

But, of course, Steve is a lot better than me. He's what my father wants me to be, so of course Dad didn't get mad. Steve is better, Steve is right.

Right?

Of course, he's Captain America. I already knew he was perfect, I... I just didn't need the proof in the flesh.

The ride back to the Stark Mansion was awkward, silent. I forced myself to sit as close as I could to my father, understanding that he meant to show me off to Steve as his amazing genius son. Who loved his father very much. I couldn't stand to sit too close, though, I didn't want to risk shuddering every time my father shifted, because that would be worse than sitting not close but not far. Steve, understandably, didn't notice much, but he did catch my eye a couple of times, but I forced my face to remain as if I was deep in thought, when unless I'm working on something, I'm never deep in thought.

Steve was very surprised as we pulled into the driveway of the mansion. "You live here?" He asked.

"Not all the time." Howard said, smiling. "I have to go to many different places for work, but Tony can't come with us all the time, so he's pretty much always here. You can't take seven year olds into potential war zones, he's bad enough with re-wiring things anyway, I don't want him making anything explode where it's more dangerous than the house."

Steve looked at me. "You make things explode?"

I felt myself blush involuntarily. "Yeah, sometimes. Not always on purpose. I didn't realise that the microwave I turned into a toaster had a wire reversed. My finger didn't burn off, it was just a bad burn." I said, shrugging, and Steve's face grew worried. Oh no. That was the wrong thing to say. No. I had to get away from here right now before Dad manages to speak to me alone. I yawned. "Ohh, um, I'm a bit tired. I'm going to go to bed." I said, getting out of the car the second it stopped and ran to the door, through the hallways and up to my room.

Only then did I stop, locking my door from the inside and collapsing onto my bed. Steve was going to get me in so much trouble. It was his gaze... I just couldn't lie to him.

**AN: I realise that this is over a month and a half overdue. But, you know, Camp NaNoWriMo, 30,000 words in a month, that kind of thing. If you want to read my NaNoWriMo project, it's called A Cheap Trick and a Cheesy One-Liner. I wonder who it's about...**


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